IN THIS fair stranger’s eyes of grey <br />Thine eyes, my love, I see. <br />I shudder: for the passing day <br />Had borne me far from thee. <br /> <br />This is the curse of life: that not <br />A nobler calmer train <br />Of wiser thoughts and feelings blot <br />Our passions from our brain; <br /> <br />But each day brings its petty dust <br />Our soon-chok’d souls to fill, <br />And we forget because we must, <br />And not because we will. <br /> <br />I struggle towards the light; and ye, <br />Once-long’d-for storms of love! <br />If with the light ye cannot be, <br />I bear that ye remove. <br /> <br />I struggle towards the light; but oh, <br />While yet the night is chill, <br />Upon Time’s barren, stormy flow, <br />Stay with me, Marguerite, still!<br /><br />Matthew Arnold<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/absence-58/
